


The Sangria Problem

by swaps55



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Team Milky Way (Mass Effect), Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swaps55/pseuds/swaps55
Summary: Kaidan owes Ashley a drink. He's not sure why, but she says so, and he knows better than to argue.Kaidan’s not more than two steps out of the Citadel airlock before Ashley grabs him by the front of the shirt. “Come on,” she says. “You’re buying me a drink.”“Wait, what?”She doesn’t answer, just starts walking, Kaidan’s shirt still trapped in her fist.
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko & Ashley Williams, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	The Sangria Problem

Kaidan’s not more than two steps out of the Citadel airlock before Ashley grabs him by the front of the shirt. “Come on,” she says. “You’re buying me a drink.”

“Wait, what?”

She doesn’t answer, just starts walking, Kaidan’s shirt still trapped in her fist. He half trips, hops once, somehow manages to keep his feet.

“Ashley, I have things—”

“I spent all day yesterday up to my ass in fucking monkeys while you and Shepard sauntered off to go stick your fingers in a prothean electrical socket and take a nap,” she replies, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “You’re buying me a drink.”

“Um, ok.”

~

He half expects her to drag him to Chora’s Den strictly out of spite, but it turns out her disdain for pole dancing is greater than her desire to see him suffer, so they end up at the casino instead.

“So what am I buying you?” he asks as they park at a table.

“Something fruity with an umbrella.”

“Really?” he asks, cocking his head in surprise.

Ashley waves a careless hand. “I’m talking at least three different kinds of fruit, and if you can score an extra umbrella, all’s the better.”

“Ok,” he says with a shrug. “Whatever you say.”

When he returns with the drink – sangria mixed with…other things, and resplendent with no less than three umbrellas – she sighs happily and closes her eyes before taking the first sip.

“Life on the _Normandy_ can really drive a girl to drink,” she says. “If I’d had any idea searching monkey shit was going to be a requirement I would have thought harder about staying.”

“Bullshit,” Kaidan says good naturedly. He’s gotten a beer for himself, but the more he looks at Ashley’s concoction the more he kind of wishes he’d gotten two of them.

“Yeah, well,” she gripes.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, offering up his glass. “Thank you for running point on the monkeys.”

She clinks her glass with his. “You’re welcome. At least tell me you took advantage of having alone time on one of the _only_ scenic planets we have ever been to, to hit on your commander.”

Kaidan nearly chokes on his beer. Some of the drink sloshes out the rim of the cup as he slams it to the table. Great. It’ll go beautifully with the dribble running down his chin. 

Ashley hands him a napkin, eyebrow raised. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

He snatches the napkin from her and begins wiping up the mess. “Ashley, why would I—”

She leans forward with her elbows on the table. “Because your poker face is only good when there’s cards involved. You’ve known Shepard for how many years now?”

“Four,” he says, too quickly to deny he’d been keeping count.

“And let me guess. You’ve been secretly in love with him for…four of those years?”

Oh boy. Kaidan takes a long pull of his beer, stopping just short of downing the whole thing. He stares at what remains, reconsiders, and then swallows that, too. Going to the bar for another drink will at least give him a few minutes to regroup, in addition to foregoing beer for Ashley’s sangria-thing.

Ashley hooks his chair with her foot and locks it in place just as he tries to get up. “I don’t think so,” she informs him, then flags down a passing waiter.

“He’ll have one of these,” she informs him, pointing to her glass.

She slouches back in her chair after the waiter leaves, arms folded across her chest, expectant look in her eye.

He signs in agitation, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Please. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Kaidan.”

He opens one eye. Her expression is more sympathetic now, but there’s a glint in his eye that informs him the only way out of this conversation is a conveniently located hull breach right under his chair.

“You are not the first person to be in love with their commanding officer.”

“I _hardly_ think I’m unique,” he scoffs.

Her voice softens. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” she asks.

“Ash, he’s humanity’s first Spectre. He’s tasked with taking down a madman, and in the process we accidentally discovered that he’s working for a race of sentient killer machines. So failing our mission could mean the _literal_ end of life as we know it. Oh, and he’s carrying around an undeciphered message from an alien race that’s been dead for fifty thousand years in his brain all because I had to go and stick my fingers in a _different_ prothean electrical socket. Yes. It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, but that’s _recent_. What about four years ago? What stopped you then?”

He sighs again. The waiter brings his drink, and he gratefully takes a good, long pull. “Because…by the time I realized it…” He closes his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “I loved him too much to risk losing him.” He looks back down, toying with the straw before summoning the courage to meet her gaze. “I didn’t know how to tell him. I still don’t.”

He expects another smartass remark. Or a lecture. At least a roll of her eyes. Instead she reaches across the table and grabs his hand.

“That sucks,” she says simply.

Ashley Williams. Always a surprise.

“Yeah,” he says, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “It does.”

“Wanna get drunk?”

“Yes,” he says after a pause. “I do.”

She pats him on the hand. “Attaboy. Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hair back if and when the mission calls for it.” She puts her hand up in the air as the waiter swings back around. “Two more, please,” she calls out. “Heavy on the umbrellas.”

She raises her glass again. “To getting shitfaced over unrequited love.”

He clinks her glass. “To good friends who get shitfaced with you.”

“Yeah,” she says with a wink. “Just remember that the next time monkeys are involved.”


End file.
